


A Recently Constant Problem

by Moonlitdark



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Lust, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 01:53:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28610139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlitdark/pseuds/Moonlitdark
Summary: Draco speculated whether Potter had been using glamours lately.  Possibly.  After all, it wouldn’t do for their future saviour to look bad, but Draco didn’t see how it was to the advantage of the Order for him to look this attractive either.  Perhaps the strategy involved seducing the Dark Lord to destruction.  Not bloody likely, Potter was going to behis.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	A Recently Constant Problem

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted a long time ago on Livejournal. So if it seems familiar, you've probably read it before.

Draco knew that he should cease this foolishness immediately. Lust was not an uncontrollable urge; it could be reined in, redirected towards worthier sources. But straightforward although that plan seemed, it repeatedly went to pieces whenever Potter did annoying things like this. 

Even as Draco reflected about the deplorable and mundane company he had been forced to endure of late, denim spread temptingly taut as Potter stooped to retrieve another dropped article from the kitchen floor. Very nice. Catching himself in the midst of this stray thought, Draco rectified it with a swift, silent insult. Clumsy bastard.

When Potter re-emerged from his examination of the floor tiles, Draco speculated whether Potter had been using glamours lately. Possibly. After all, it wouldn’t do for their future saviour to look bad, but Draco didn’t see how it was to the advantage of the Order for him to look this attractive either. Perhaps the strategy involved seducing the Dark Lord to destruction. Not bloody likely, Potter was going to be _his_.

Shocked by this alarming sudden revelation, Draco urgently utilised his shoulder to sweep the obstacle of Potter aside, sighing in relief when he'd made it safely past with a clear path to the door.

“Malfoy?”

Potter’s voice wasn’t meant to stop him in his tracks. And it certainly wasn’t supposed to cause twitches of longing in any part of his body. Obviously, he’d spent far too much time alone; his work for the Order did necessitate long periods of isolation. At this moment Draco longed to return to the solitude. Grimmauld Place was hardly his idea of a holiday home, and he desperately prayed that his stay here would be mercifully short. 

“I was wondering what your plans were for tonight?” Potter enquired to Draco’s back.

Draco swivelled, his trusty facade in place. It would never let him down. 

“Well, let’s see. Firstly, I plan to spend a blissfully relaxing few hours staring at the peeling walls of this dilapidated dump and then tuck myself under worn, moth-eaten covers to get some rest.”

“Want some company?”

Fuck, but he did. “No.”

“Okay. I just thought it’d help to pass the time, since we’re the only two people in this ‘dilapidated dump’ tonight.”

“We are?”

“Uh-huh.”

A tiny twinge which felt suspiciously like panic crept up into Draco’s chest. “But isn’t this place always teeming with people? All those irritating bastards that usually refuse to leave?”

“Not tonight.”

This was dangerous. Draco wondered whether the invitation was even really what he thought it was. Of course not, Potter was merely offering to bore him with an evening of pointless chit-chat. Well, he’d happily pass up on that wondrous opportunity.

“I’m sure that I can find something better to amuse myself than listening to your pointless babbling.”

“I'd better let you get on with it, then.” A warm, delectable form slid easily past Draco to make it to the exit of the kitchen first but paused in the doorway just long enough to offer another suggestion. “Let me know if you need any help with anything. Or change your mind.” 

Help… yes, assistance would be lovely for this recently constant problem. Some form of therapy, perhaps. Somehow, Potter had yet again succeeded in growing an impressive erection in Draco’s groin before casually buggering off and leaving him to it. But that was what Draco wanted, wasn’t it? Not the inappropriate erection (or the buggering), but the departure, certainly. Yes, Potter's absence was a good development. It would just need a little more effort to convince himself of that fact at this moment. Draco sighed quietly as he mounted the stairs, determinedly not concentrating on the delicious rub of fabric against his cock.

When he eventually and bravely ventured back downstairs a few hours later, he took one glance into the sitting room and feared that things were destined to get worse, very quickly.

“What’re you doing?” Draco gasped, hanging onto the nearby door frame for support.

A kissable, lightly stubbled jaw turned to greet him and plastic-framed eyes flicked up to observe his sudden entrance. Potter's eyes were definitely a problem - annoyingly clichéd vibrant irises which frequently sucked Draco into a hazy pool of longing. And why did they need to be so goddamn _green_? 

“Watching the telly.”

Draco didn't understand why Potter needed to be lying down so seductively to do that. Draco's gaze roved along a smooth cotton-clad chest and down the gorgeous length of lean legs which had evidently been strategically placed to taunt him. “Well, stop it,” he snapped, fighting twin desires to either pounce on the man languishing on the sofa or run away in terror.

“Excuse me?”

“Whatever you're doing, Potter. Just stop it.”

Potter's brow creased quizzically over the pools of green. Why couldn't they be brown? Draco hated brown eyes. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You are… you're…” Draco silenced himself before his stupidity progressed beyond salvaging.

“What do you think that I’m doing?”

“Nothing, like you said.”

“You want me to stop doing nothing?” Potter rolled over ever so slightly, just enough to grant a breath-taking view of his arse. 

“Yes.”

“I’ll get right on that.”

Round suppleness pushed at the denim, silently pleading, encouraging Draco to put his hands just _there_. Draco was beginning to suspect that he was doomed.

“Want to join me?” asked Potter. “It’s really very good.”

“What is?”

“The film.”

“And why would I want to spend my time watching some inane Muggle creation?”

“Because there’s not much else to do around here.”

“Is hatching a brilliantly flawless and extremely overdue plot to bring about the demise of the Dark Lord not high on your list of priorities?”

“Is that what you’re doing with _your_ evening?”

Draco's reply wasn't quick enough to be convincing. Damn those curves.

“Thought not,” Potter chuckled. “So how about it? Call it Muggle research or something.”

“I don’t need to research anything.”

“Suit yourself. Do you want to shag instead?”

Draco nearly lost his balance to become a heap on the floor. “W - what?”

“You could find out what it would feel like to have my cock up your arse.”

Although that sounded like a fantastically good idea indeed, he wasn’t about to admit it. “I… do you always spout out insanely random propositions like this?”

“Nope. I’m making an exception. Just for you.”

“Well, I’ll pass. Thanks, anyway.” Draco knew that he hadn't quite pulled off his smirk.

“Okay. Maybe later, then.”

“Maybe never.”

“That’d be a shame.” Potter's mouth created a much better example of a smirk before he turned his focus back to the flickering screen. 

Draco wasn’t sure when his nemesis had developed into such a first-class slut. But he liked it. This change in attitude suited Potter. Immensely. Draco’s plan to eternally despise Potter seemed to have gone temporarily astray, but there’d be plenty of time to rectify that later. Right now, he was slightly busy trying to form a cunning plan to get Potter flat on his back on a springy mattress without looking like he was complying with any of Potter’s wishes.

Potter raised his arms over his head, revealing a sliver of lickable skin between waistband and t-shirt and Draco abruptly altered his plan.

“Changed your mind?” Potter enquired under the body which had suddenly blanketed his.

Draco declined to reply in favour of commencing a plenitude of deep kisses and exploring caresses, leaving no room for further debate. 

The clothing between them vanished with amazing rapidness, but Draco’s heart wasn’t really in the token scuffle which followed. Once Potter was between his legs, stretching and filling him with vicious thrusts, Draco decided that dominance was a silly notion to fight for, anyway.

Somewhere amid the bliss of tongue against heated skin, he had let the fact that he hated this man slip his mind. 

Lying amid the aftermath, Draco wondered how long he could fend off that memory.


End file.
